Attitude
by Blonde Pickle Mule
Summary: Percy Weasley is more than a little ruffled by Draco Malfoy's complete disrespect towards him. In fact, he's sick of Slytherins altogether. Set in the trio's second year. Written for Hogwarts Online.


_**Hello! Long time no see, eh? Anyways, here's something I conjured up for the Hufflepuff Prompt of the Day on Hogwarts Online. The prompt for today was "Attitude."**_

_**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. Now I'm going to go and cry. **_

* * *

Percy Weasley eyed the arrogant blonde haired boy in front of him, cool grey eyes staring almost tauntingly back.

"Watch your attitude, _Malfoy._" The Gryffindor Prefect hissed, eyes narrowing through his horn-rimmed glasses. Slytherins. They were all the same, like they thought they were better than everyone else. You grew used to it over the years, but that didn't mean that Percy had grown to like it.

Draco sneered, lips curling into his customary smirk before tugging his cronies away into the Slytherin Common Room. The last thing Percy saw was a large room filled with an eerie green light and quite a few dank tapestries before the wall closed back on him.

His cheeks splotched with red, the boy pushed his glasses back up his nose and marched stiffly onwards past Professor Snape's dungeon to finish his rounds. The cold air pushed through his robes and thick woollen jumper, the one his mother had given him last Christmas. It was getting a bit tight around the sleeves now, but it was November, he'd get a new one soon enough.

Who did Draco Malfoy think he was? Who did all the Slytherins think they were for that matter? Percy was fed up of the looks they gave him, the way they scorned his family. The way they scorned his position was terribly annoying as well. He had worked hard to get to where he was now, and the Slytherins thought they could brush that all away. Percy's pride smarted again. His own brothers brushed him off more than enough, he didn't need idiots like Marcus Flint doing it too.

The red head came to the end of the corridor and spun about, glaring at the walls. How he wished he could hex them sometimes, with their cold smiles and jeering laughs. He knew it wasn't very Prefectish of him, but sometimes they really were aggravating.

Huffing , Percy stomped up the steps and into the warm entrance hall. He nodded stiffly to Maria Pennyfeather who was making her way up the marble staircase and turned down the side corridor. All this anger was a bit too exciting for his distinguished disposition- maybe going to the kitchens for a tad of tea would soothe his nerves.

Torches blazed in the brackets as he passed paintings all snoring loudly in their frames before he came to the one of a fruit bowl. Nervously, the elder Weasley glanced both ways down the corridor for his twin brothers. He'd never live it down if they knew he'd been breaking the rules. Students weren't technically allowed into the kitchens, not even Prefects (something he personally felt was absurd.)

Reaching up with his left hand he tickled the pear and watched as the doorknob morphed in front of him. Inside the kitchen was very large. Burnished pots and pans hung from the domed ceiling and massive stoves lined the walls. Long tables stood down the middle of the room, _piled _with food. Percy eyed the scones hungrily. Maybe just _one_...

"Master Percy, sir!" A little elf appeared at the Prefect's elbow, looking absolutely delighted. "It's an honour to see you again!"

A small grin worked its way onto the usually stern Prefect's face. "Hello there, Ned."

"Is there anything I can get for you Sir?" Percy nodded, making his way to his usual chair by the roaring fire.

"A pot of tea would be nice, and I've been feeling a little peckish." The elf smiled and nodded, his bat-like ears swaying under the wispy white hair that curled on top of his head.

"I'd recommend the scones sir, they're freshly baked." Percy's stomach leapt with glee.

"That sounds perfect." The elf scurried off immediately, and a few minutes later when Percy had his feet propped against a stool handed him a large mug, placing a plate heaped with food on the table next to him.

Percy sighed, lifting the steaming liquid to his lips, anger almost forgotten. He'd deal with Malfoy and that attitude tomorrow, he told himself.

Tomorrow.

* * *

_**Well there you are my pretties! I hope you enjoyed this, seeing as I've never written Percy before. A shoutout to my friend Millie, who insisted that I add in the quote "a tad of tea."**_

_**Leave me a review with your thoughts? Thank you for reading!**_


End file.
